Wednesday October 7th, 2015

The exercise:

Write something which takes place in: the costume shop.

Had some time to myself today and managed to get caught up on comments all the way through to the end of September. I am determined to get fully caught up, and remain caught up, on comments on the blog. I'm getting there.

The Vancouver Canucks opened their 2015/16 regular season with an impressive 5-1 win this evening. Expectations are not particularly high for this year's version of the team, but I'm still hopeful for entertaining hockey and at least a few more results like this one.

Mine:

"Can we hurry this up?" I asked, trying to make myself as small as possible among the endless rows of costumes. "I'm feeling claustrophobic in here."

"Hold on, I've almost got it on," Ryan called back from one of the change rooms (I honestly couldn't figure out which one his voice was coming from - that only added to my dislike of the place). "I'm pretty sure we've got a winner with this one."

"I doubt that," I muttered. Absentmindedly I reached out and ran a finger down the length of a police uniform. I was surprised by how soft the fabric was.

"Okay, you ready?" Ryan asked. I could hear the excitement in his voice. It made me queasy.

"To get out of here? Hell yes."

"Come on, man. This is important."

"All right, all right. Let me see it."

I'll admit it. When Ryan stepped out of the change room he was unrecognizable. I actually hesitated before saying anything, wanting to make sure another door wasn't about to open with my friend in a more obviously Ryan-like form.

"I'm impressed," I said after no other doors opened.

"I know, right? Maggie won't know it's me until I start talking!"

"Yeah... but, you know, maybe dressing up like a psychotic clown isn't the best way to sneak up to your ex-girlfriend in a last ditch attempt to win her back."

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Well done on getting caught up so far! It was very entertaining reading your replies and seeing what you enjoyed out of our modest contributions. And... go Canucks!
There are some great descriptions in there today, with the endless rows of costumes and the unexpected softness of the fabric of the uniform. I don't think I know what I was expecting from Ryan by the end, but the psychotic clown definitely wasn't it and did make me smile. I think he picked exactly the right thing for leaping out on unsuspecting exes :)
[By the way, second paragraph of the story you have a stray "0"; it's very decorative!]

The costume shop
Sixticton was proud to have a milliner's shop, and prouder still that it had its own workshop attached at the back of it. Henry, who ran the shop, made the hats, and generally suffered from mercury poisoning like a Victorian, was sitting at the counter surrounded by toques for winter and wheezing softly. The bell at the door tinged sprightly and he sat up straighter, feeling shooting pains race each other across his ribs.
"This is the costume shop?" The skinny thug might already have been in costume; he had straw poking out of his sleeve and trouser cuffs, his shirt was puffed out far farther than his chest could naturally reach and there was a duck sitting, unperturbed, on his head.
"No," said Henry, with a little difficulty. His chest felt like his ex-wife was sitting on it. "There's no costume shop in Sixticton."
"Sticks," said the thug. "But it's Hallowe'en in like, three weeks. Where do I get a Pumpkin King costume from then?"
"The, the schoolchildren are encour..uraged to make their own," said Henry. He blinked; for a moment he could have sworn that his primary school teacher was stood in his shop wagging her finger at him.
"Sticks," said the thug. "We got a sewing machine shop here then?"
"The children make their own," said Henry, repeating himself because the ringing in his ears had drowned out the question. He rubbed his face with his hands, missing how wide the thug's eyes had gone.
"Sticks and bats!" he breathed. "Right, right. But, like, I can get the hat from you when I've done made the sewing machine and the sewing right?"
"I'd be delighted," said Henry. "Why do you keep saying 'sticks'?"
"Sticks and bats," said the thug. "Rhyming slang: rats. Right, sticks. I gotta go find me a scrap metal yard."
Henry watched him leave and wondered if he should open a window. The feeling in his legs seemed to be fading though, so he decided to sit there a little longer. The bell tinged at the door.
"Excuse me, but is this a costume shop?" asked a female voice from the doorway.

Marc said...

Greg - hey, look at me responding to your comment less than 24 hours later! I think the previous expectation would have been closer to 24 days, yeah?

Anyway. Thanks for the kind words, as well as pointing out my typo. Both are appreciated :)

Loved the duck on the head detail. And pretty much everything about Henry. Enjoyed the back and forth as well.

And also noticed (and appreciated) the inclusion of toques :P